


Every Shadow Filled Up (With Doubt)

by MoMoMomma



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Consent Issues, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Exhibitionism, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Spit As Lube, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:46:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s screwed him over so many times now, doing something unexpected, leaving Theo to scramble and keep up. It’s exhausting, really, and angers him to the point he’s almost slipped up a few times. It was why he’d shifted his focus in the first place, going to everyone else in the pack before he got anywhere near the one ever-so-important human member. The emissary. The voice that screams out above the rest and drags Scott’s trust and focus away from him.</p><p>It’s a very poignant sort of irony that the one thing Stiles didn’t screw up for him was something that hit so close to home.</p><p>Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Shadow Filled Up (With Doubt)

**Author's Note:**

> ***********RE: the consent issues; both the Sheriff and Theo consent to the sex in this fic. However, while Theo enjoys it and is not being forced to do it, he IS having sex with someone for the purpose of manipulation and not because he simply wants to. Likewise, the Sheriff is having sex with someone he believes came onto him because of an attraction, not for the ulterior motives that make up the reality of the situation. **********
> 
> This fic popped into life the second I saw the locker room hug in 5.09 and I regret nothing. I am prepared to live in my trash can.

All in all, Theo is pleasantly shocked by how  _easy_ it is. Every other part of his plan has been wrenched somehow, twisted off the neatly set out parameters, and there’s always one similarity in every disaster.

Stiles.

He’s screwed him over so many times now, doing something unexpected, leaving Theo to scramble and keep up. It’s exhausting, really, and angers him to the point he’s almost slipped up a few times. It was why he’d shifted his focus in the first place, going to everyone else in the pack before he got anywhere near the one ever-so-important human member. The emissary. The voice that screams out above the rest and drags Scott’s trust and focus away from him.

It’s a very poignant sort of irony that the one thing Stiles didn’t screw up for him was something that hit so close to home.

Literally.

“T-Theo, hang on, honey. Just slow down.”

“I don’t wanna.” It’s just the right bit of a petulance, just the slightest tint of immaturity to his voice as he bites gently at the thick throat he’s nuzzled into. “Please, _please_ , I want it so bad.”

The Sheriff’s broad shoulders shake under his hands, fingertips biting bruises into his hips as he tips Theo back onto the bed. He makes himself let go once he’s prone, splaying his legs wide and curling his hands onto his own stomach instead. The perfect picture of submission and innocence. Obviously the Sheriff agreed, going by the low groan and the way his eyes darkened in the low light of the bedroom.

“We need to slow down.”

“Please, don’t make me. Don’t throw me out.” The smallest roll of his hips is all it takes to drag the eyes down, shifting the Sheriff’s focus long enough for him to blink a shine of tears into his eyes. “You make me feel so, so good. And I don’t--I want--with everything going on...you make me feel safe.”

“Honey, that shouldn’t be why you do something like this with someone.” It’s adorable, how hard the man is trying to cling to his morals.

Pity Theo doesn’t have the time or patience to pander to his sense of honor. He’s on a schedule, mentally keeping tally of how long it’ll take Stiles and Lydia in the forest. Later, maybe, he’ll let it drag out, argue and whine to get his way, take the time to ease the Sheriff into believing that not only does he want and need it, he’s _gagging_ for it.

“I know, I know. This isn’t my first time, but I just--I really want you. You make me feel so good.”

Repetition, get the phrase in his head, create an almost Pavlovian response to quicken future interactions.

The Sheriff spits out a curse before nodding and tugging at his pants, trying to ease them down. It’s easy to kick out of them, curl up and tug his shirt off too, though a firm hand on his belly stops him when he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs. It catches him off guard, so much that he actually forgets to wipe his expression of annoyance off his face before he looks up.

“Sorry, just let me--” The Sheriff seems to take his irritation in stride, shaking his head before leaning down to yank the waistband down in a smooth move.

It’s awkward, the way the material bites into his hipbones and restricts his movement, but it’s worth it for the wet heat that wraps around the tip of his cock. He almost forgets himself in the wake of pleasure, almost sinks claw-tipped hands into the Sheriff’s hair and yanks him forward, but catches himself just as his arms raise from the bed.

Instead, when the man’s eyes flicker up, he slams his hands into the sheets and fists them, tipping his head back on a desperate whine. Theo lets his hips roll up, grinning slightly at the satisfied hum it earns him, and writhes against the softness of the bed.

“Oh god, oh please, oh no--I don’t wanna--you’re gonna make me _come_. Please, no, I wanna come on your cock. Don’t make me come yet!”

The Sheriff rips his mouth away with a rough groan, stripping his briefs off in a quick motion, kneeling back between his spread legs almost instantly once he’s tossed them. It’s gotta make a pretty picture, Theo imagines, his naked body spread and flushed, a direct contrast to the fully clothed body of his partner.

He’s watched enough porn to know that people go wild when their partner is vulnerable and at their mercy.

“Let me grab some--”

“I’m clean. I’m clean and you can’t give me anything.” He surges up, gripping onto the Sheriff’s shirt where it’s bunched on powerful biceps, drawing his legs up around the man’s hips. “I wanna feel you come inside me. Wanna feel you fill me up.”

“ _Fuck_ , honey,” the Sheriff breathes, dropping his forehead to his shoulder for a split second and jerking forwards in some mockery of a thrust. “Are you sure?”

“So sure,” because they don’t have _time_ for this bullshit, he’s gotta pull out all the stops. “I’ve thought about it. Finger-fucked myself _raw_ thinking about your cock splitting me open, pumping inside until I’m _dripping_. I want it so bad.”

The low groan is all the answer he needs and Theo uses the split second when the Sheriff sags to flip him onto his back, clamboring onto his lap before he can do more than jolt in surprise. He thanks whatever god is listening that the man had dropped his gun belt by the door when they’d stumbled through it as it’s infinitely easier to get his pants unbuttoned and pushed aside without it on. From there it’s easy to tug them down, catching the material of boxers in his fingers and quickening the whole process, painting an expression of need on his face to cover his impatience.

Theo allows himself a moment to marvel at the length and _thickness_ of the cock that springs free from the material, swallowing back a sudden rush of drool. He does like men, after all, and the Sheriff is not only an attractive, in-control top, he’s also got a cock that looks like something out of a porno.

Or any one of Theo’s wet dreams.

“Hey,” obviously his distraction is showing, because there’s sudden a broad palm cupping his cheek, “you can back out at any time. We don’t have to do this, just tell me and we’ll sto--son of a _bitch_!”

Theo can understand the sudden curse, he imagines it’s somewhat difficult to keep a sentence straight when someone swallows your cock halfway through a word. The Sheriff doesn’t have his sense of restraint, fingers gripping tightly in his hair, holding on while he bobs and sucks on the dick stretching his lips wide. Theo throws in a moan or groan on every other breath, not having to fake them as much as he thought he would, cock pulsing between his thighs.

Fuck, he didn’t actually think he’d get this much out of the experience. Guess today is full of surprises.

He lets himself drool thickly, lines of saliva dripping from his fist and slicking the entire length, spread around by the rare pump of his hand. They’re almost out of time, prep is something that’ll have to be forgotten, so stopping to lube up won’t exactly be an option.

Not if this is gonna work out just the way he wants it to.

Popping off with a gasp, Theo keeps working his wrist slowly, watching how the Sheriff’s eyes linger on the tears in his own and the wetness of his mouth.

“I want this inside me. I wanna feel you stretch me open, need it right now.”

“Alright, honey, okay.” It’s sweet, the pet names, Theo really hopes those stay once he gets on top of him. “Let me just get some--”

“No!” He grips harder, freezing the Sheriff in place from where he’d been twisted, reaching towards the bedside table. “No, I don’t...I wanna _feel_ it. I want it to burn and hurt and ache so I spend the rest of the day thinking about this. Thinking about you...and your cock.”

“Baby, we can’t--”

“I’m already loose!” God _damn_ this man and his gentle eyes and soft words of concern. “I--after the locker room, I fucked myself open. In the bathroom. While you were waiting for me in the parking lot. I just couldn’t help it, I got so hot and I want you so--so bad. That hug just...you make me feel so good.”

He knows he’s won when the Sheriff flops bonelessly back onto the bed, staring up at him with darkened blue eyes, jaw flexing as he grits his teeth together. It’s almost impossible to bite back a smile at his success, but Theo manages it. He swings a leg over, positioning himself so not only does he have a clear view of the bedroom door but ensuring that the Sheriff does _not_. There’s a split second of hesitation before one hand smooths up his back, the other hooking around his hip, and the Sheriff murmur a quiet “Theo, honey?” in confusion.

“I’m gonna,” he twists his head, grinding down against the slick mess he left on the Sheriff’s cock, not faking the breathlessness one bit. “I’m gonna look so slutty, I know it. Gonna look like a whore with how--how _desperate_ I am for your cock. It’s...embarrassing, and I don’t want you to...to see.”

It’s almost _boring_ being so demure and shy. When all this is said and done, Theo decides abruptly, he’s gonna have a “sudden surge of confidence” and fuck the man without all this bullshit ‘innocence’.

“Okay, baby.” Sweet Sheriff, so understanding and accepting. “You do whatever you need to, okay? Whatever you want. You’re in control here.”

Yes.

Yes he is.

Reaching down, it’s easy enough to push onto his knees and hold the Sheriff’s cock in place. The saliva does as much as saliva can to ease the burn and friction--which isn’t much, though in all honesty he’s never minded just the smallest bit of pain--and he has to pause halfway down the man’s cock to gasp for breath, letting himself adjust. The Sheriff’s got a death grip on his hips, not pushing or pulling, just holding, and it makes him grin despite the ache.

It’s gonna be easier than he thought to get this man all wrapped up in him.

He does stop once he’s settled, ass flush against the Sheriff’s powerful hips, bending over slightly and planting his hands on thick thighs. It’s a brand inside him, hot and hard and _perfect_ , and Theo actually loses track of a few minutes while trying to adjust.

When he blinks back into focus, the Sheriff is murmuring softly under his breath, one hand rhythmically stroking up and down his spine. He’s _horrified_ he let himself space out and sits up, earning a groan and a quiet “are you okay?”

“I told you I was gonna--god, you feel so good, make me feel so good. I knew you would, knew you would fill me up perfectly but I didn’t think you’d be so… _big_.”

There isn’t even the barest hint of masculine pride in the Sheriff’s quick exhale of amusement, which makes him a better man than most. He’s not _proud_ of how big he is, it’s probably caused him some grief in the sex department his whole life, and it’ll work to Theo’s advantage in the long run. He’s probably used to partners having to take their time, go slowly to avoid injury.

Which means when Theo drags this out--because apparently Stiles and Lydia decided to have a fucking picnic while looking for the stupid tree--it’s not gonna be that suspicious.

The first roll of his hips has both of them groaning, the Sheriff dropping a hand back to his waist, Theo’s fingers biting into the flesh of his thighs. It’s almost uncomfortable, sitting straight up, and he leans forward for the moment. Not only is it easier, he knows it must give the Sheriff a fantastic view, given the low snarled curse from behind him.

Good. Because he’s working up to something _big_ and he needs the Sheriff mindless to go along with it.

“Am I all red?” Thank god for werewolf balance, otherwise he’d never be able to settle on his knees well enough to reach back with his hands and grasp his ass. “You feel like you’re gonna break me open...I bet I’m all swollen and red because of your cock.”

“Yeah,” it’s guttural, grit against glass, and it’s the best thing Theo’s heard all week.. “Yeah, honey, it’s--aw hell, honey, you’re all red here. So sensitive and raw.”

There’s the barest brush of fingertips against the stretched skin of his hole, making Theo jolt and rock back with more force than normal. He groans and pulls himself open just a bit more, clenching down tighter, making sure he’s leaned forward enough that’s the Sheriff can _see_ how he’s affecting him.

“Will you kiss it all better? Later?” Here’s the whine again, the touch of desperation to his voice that notches it up an octave.

The tone that turns him from a lover to a _boy_.

“Of course, baby. I’ll make sure of it. Put you on your stomach and lick you out until it’s all better. Sound good?”

Sounds fucking _amazing_ , actually, but Theo doesn’t have time to say that. Not when his ears prick up at the sound of the Jeep’s gears grinding as Stiles whips around the corner at the very end of the road. Pushing himself up just slightly--not fully upright though, it’s not time for that yet--he thrusts his hips down and moans loud at the brush against his prostate.

The pace he sets is brutal, fast and punishing, but believable enough. A slow start means the desperation can build and that the fuck is gonna be hard, rough, and quick. The Sheriff’s been around the block enough to know it. Stiles is taking his time down the road, no rush on his mind, which is good because it gives Theo the time he needs to fit the second to last piece of the puzzle in.

“Oh god, you make me feel so good. So good, so thick inside me. I want you to fuck me open, want you to _ruin_ me for anyone else. I wanna be yours. I wanna belong to you, only get fucked by you. Want you to be my--” He makes sure his palm connects loudly when he slaps it over his mouth, catching the Sheriff’s attention.

“What, baby? What do you want? Tell me.”

It’s not so much about what Theo wants...as what _Stiles_ wants. Scott’s used to it, Malia too, no one else seems to have picked up on it or noticed it. But Theo did. Noticed the way Stiles’ heart sped up when he was near his dad, the way the cinnamon scent of lust crept into his scent under the constant smell of anxiety. He even noticed the way Stiles’ cock would thicken, perk to attention when his father was in Sheriff-mode, in control and dominant. He can’t blame him, really, the Sheriff is one amazingly attractive man.

But, unfortunately for Stiles, a weakness like that is so...easily manipulated.

“Theo?”

There’s the creak of the front door, buried under the squeak of the bedsprings, and Theo bounces particularly hard once, purposefully loud in his wail. This is all over if Stiles calls out that he’s home.

“I want you to be...wanna call you…” The third step up creaks, and going by the split second noise, Stiles is practically sprinting up them.

Theo waits, patient, keeping his pace quick, panting and whining with every breath. He’s holding himself on the knife edge of orgasm, sitting upright and hanging on by the skin of his teeth when the position makes every thrust of the Sheriff’s cock rub against his prostate. It’s not until he sees Stiles’ eyes in the cracked sliver of the ajar door that he lets himself go, lets his head tip back so his entire body is on display, and cries out loud enough that Stiles could have heard him downstairs.

“ _Daddy_!”

He’s halfway through his orgasm, pulses still dragging moans and groans from him, when everything goes sideways.

In the best possible way.

The Sheriff flips him onto his stomach in a smooth move, impossibly staying inside him, until he’s sprawled on the bed, ass lifted into brutal thrusts. He scrambles to get his knees under him just the slightest bit, tilt his hips so the smack of flesh is obscenely loud. He can’t see Stiles in this position but he knows he’s still there, can tell from the racing heart and the bitter lemon stench of toxic jealousy.

It’s all going amazing. And then the Sheriff starts to _talk_...and it just gets better.

“Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. I’ll be your Daddy, take such good care of my boy. Fuck you so good, make you feel so good for Daddy. God, you’re so good, so fucking good coming for Daddy. I’m gonna fill you up, gonna make it even better.”

“ _Yes_!” It’s not exaggerated, the way he’s clawing at the sheets with sharp nails, ripping them into shreds. His whole body is sensitive and the Sheriff is _hammering_ at his prostate, keeping him locked in the spiral of ecstasy. “Yes, come inside me. Fuck me full, Daddy. Wanna fuck myself later with your come, wanna know I’m coming because Daddy fucked me slick.”

It’s filthy and loud and _perfect_ , especially the way the Sheriff groans out his name like he’s been punched, grinding in hard on his last few thrusts. He wails once again for good measure, only half-faking the shudders at the feeling of come slicking his hole. It’s a turn on for him, for sure, and it’ll work out in his favor in the end anyhow.

Even if Stiles can push this from his mind, one little shift and peculiar expression--maybe an offhand comment about being “a little sore”--will drag all of this to the forefront once more.

He hears the door click shut quietly and grins, hiding it in his arm as the Sheriff gingerly pulls out, settling back on his haunches. Turning over at the press of a hand on his hip, Theo switches his grin out for a blissed smile, shuttering his eyes just so.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The Sheriff laughs and shakes his head, glancing at the bedside clock with an almost sheepish expression. Theo sits up carefully, playing up the wince at the stretch--it really does ache, but it won’t last long and it’s not bad enough to warrant dragging this on--and nuzzles into the Sheriff’s throat.

“You probably have to go back to work…”

“I’ve already been ‘out to lunch’ for way too long,” the Sheriff mutters apologetically, smoothing a hand down his back. “But if you need me to stay…”

“No, it’s okay.” Theo pulls him in for a kiss, thinking of the boy who sped out the door and back into his car.

Thinking of the way Stiles must feel now, now that his best friend and girlfriend and _father_ are all in Theo’s corner. Thinking about how any objections he would have made will be silenced now; a fighter with no one in their corner never hits quite as hard, after all. All of his plans are falling neatly into place, even with the Hayden mishap, and it even looks like he’s gonna get some amazing orgasms out of it.

Everything is working out...perfect.

“You sure? Because if you need it--

“No, Daddy,” Theo lands another kiss on his mouth, partially for closeness, partially to hide the manic smile he can’t keep down. “You’ve already given me _everything_ I need.”


End file.
